


Feathers and Paws

by Editor1



Series: Grumpy Gus and Angelic Being [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: BoyxBoy, Canon Gay Relationship, Cute, Demons, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, Fallen Angels, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Bashing, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Halfway House, High School, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Science Fiction, Supernatural Elements, Sweet, Urban Fantasy, Werewolf Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 03:51:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14584344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Editor1/pseuds/Editor1
Summary: Keith is at the end of his story. He was the villain, and now he's paying for it. But a god won't let him go, and now he's stuck at a halfway house with a bunch of other misfits. Shenanigans ensue when an angel catches wind of the werewolf.This story is based on my running narrative. You can read more here: https://www.quotev.com/CassidyNighthawk/published





	1. Chapter 1

“I promise you, it’s not going to be as bad as you think.” 

“Yeah, not sure I believe that.” 

“Maybe not. Maybe you’ll be forgotten. But it’s better than being stuck in here, right?"

“I think I prefer it here. It’s quiet.” 

“But you’re you. You can’t be stuck in here like this. It isn’t you.”

“You don’t know who I am. I could be a different person.” 

“Really?” 

I stared into the face of god. She looked at me incredulously, like I was stupid for suggesting it. She was right, of course. She knew me. She’d shown me some of it, what she was capable of. And it was a stupid suggestion.

“I could be changing.” I murmured, and pulled the cup of hot chocolate closer to me. She shook her head and waved a hand at me. My eye twitched at that. I wasn’t always happy with the way she acted, like nothing mattered. It was so annoying. 

“Maybe you’re right.” She shrugged. “Maybe you are changing and I don’t know who you are anymore. I know what you were before, something I hated, but I know that it’s still there. The only thing is, is that there’s all this sadness and despair surrounding it enough, strong enough to temper you.” 

“You say it like it’s a good thing.” I growled. She merely kicked her legs up onto the rounded kitchen table, and looked out over the window to the world outside. A mixture of pines and maples, with the kitchen equipment lining the view. It was quiet here, with only the occasional visitor, and maybe then I’d play a pack of cards. I liked it better that way. I was so, so tired of hearing everyone else. But she was still here sometimes, still nattering away, unlike the others I sometimes played against. She wasn’t the grim reaper, or a dragon left forgotten. She was a god, a frustrating and bad-tempered teenager with far too much power. 

“Do you know why I saved you, Keith?” 

“You love the drama.” I sipped on my mug and she shook her head. 

“I do like drama, but that’s not the only reason. I saved you because you were in need of saving. When someone is at the end, and they feel like they have nothing left, when someone is about to end it, or they’re having it ended by someone else, I make a choice. I can either choose to accept the events that led up to this point and allow them to run their course as fate has dictated-“ 

“You mean you dictated.” 

“I don’t always control everything. Stories write themselves more often than you think. And you are certainly in the camp of ‘I had no idea this would happen.’ I give you a personality and a life, and you run with it. You live your life and I barely have time to keep up, curbing here and there, but you have the ability, at least sometimes, to do things yourself. I digress… In those times, when the end is near, I can choose to keep someone alive. I can choose to give them a chance, to bring them to safety, to let their existence continue, because I don’t think the way that their story ended is fair nor justifiable. You know, I didn’t want you to continue before. I really didn’t like you. But you showed a spark of something that I wanted to keep. And so I did.” 

“You’re not making me hate you any less.” I said gruffly. I glared at her through hateful eyes. To know that the world you lived in was controlled by such a shit head like her, a cunt who did whatever she pleased, she just made me want to squeeze the life out of her. I wasn’t normally so violent but her… She had an air of something I couldn’t help but hate. 

“That’s not something I intended either.” She said in her stupid whimsical way. “Hating me, that’s not the usual reaction. Saving people usually gets me reverence, or thanks, or a feeling of a mother caring for a child. But to see you act this way, well I suppose I should have known. You always were the one trope I wished I hadn’t added. I guess the animosity goes both ways.”

“Which is why you should just leave me here.” I scoffed. “Let me be forgotten somewhere where I don’t have to deal with them again.”

“Them? The people you hurt who in turn pushed you to the brink? Why, I think that you’ll find it isn’t as black and white as your perceive it to be.” 

“What do you mean…” 

She flicked a hand, and the wallpaper changed from the yellow sunflowers around us, to a dull red. She looked at it for a moment, her eyes squinted, then changed it back to the sunflowers.

“I mean, that you are important. You’re an old character, an important character, and a character I’m not ready to say goodbye to. A character that still has at least one or two connections to the outside world that shouldn’t be cut. And bringing you there, that could lead to a better understanding of what you’re becoming.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

“You have no choice.” 

“I don’t WANT it, you bitch-“ 

I was standing outside of a manor with white washed walls and dark green cedar bushes on either side that lead along the front and extended to the two side doors that led into the backyard. The whole place was massive. Large windows lined the first floor, and looking up, ledges and smaller ones lined the second and third. Dark green and blue trimmings along the house made it feel like something out of green gables, almost. The shrubbery, the plants and gardens even at the front, and even more when I turned around to look and see that I was at the end of a long walk way from the street, they all rang a sort of green-thumb and welcoming atmosphere. I gritted my teeth and my jaw clenched. I knew exactly where I was. Rowan’s fucking mansion. The self entitled prick and main contributor to the town, guy who owned the halfway house of stupid supernatural elites that acted like they owned the nearby high school most of them went to. The one I used to go to. 

And now I was being faced with living in the place I hated, away from the forests I had loved when I was alpha. When I was in control… 

I almost flinched when I thought about it, then did when the door opened and a tall and pale figure looked down at me. I glared back at Rowan and his stupid face. He looked like some kind of freak, black eyes, black hair and the palest face. Maybe the girls found him pretty, but he just looked like a ghost to me. 

“You can come inside.” He said. 

“What, not even a welcome home?” I complained, but it was half-hearted. I could still feel what I had done hanging over my head. I felt it in my hands that dropped to my side, the legs that could barely pick themselves up off the floor, and my head itself, inclined towards the floor, not looking at anyone if I could help it. I didn’t expect the living room just inside to be empty, but I also didn’t expect the insults to start flying the second I entered. 

“What the fuck is he doing here?” I heard a girl, maybe Origin shout. I knew it was her when her stupid pirate lackey echoed her. The girl, Origin, was just another member of this halfway house for losers who’s stories ended without a proper resolution. She wasn’t much better than me, pining after a guy who’s soul had been re-purposed into another person entirely. All she had left was Wrench, a pirate who considered her a friend more than anything. Though it wasn’t as if I cared at all about it. She was still a bitch, and so was her unrequited love. 

“He doesn’t belong here.” 

“He’s just going to be a problem, who’s idea was this?” Another. 

“He shouldn’t have been saved.” Ow. 

“Calm down, you all.” There was more outrage as I continued walking towards the kitchen, led by the impossibly tall demonic presence that acted as though I was some kind of chore to be done. Everything Rowan did, from leading me into the kitchen, to offering me something to eat, to explaining the situation, it all felt some binary, so exact and so bored. I was only here because his god put in a good word. 

“Do you hear me, Keith?” I glared at him as I leaned against the counter, uneaten apple still in my hand. 

“Yeah, I hear you. Same old story, same old shit until I inevitably do what you know I’ll do again.” He winced, and I smirked. 

“Look. I may not like you either, but you don’t deserve death for being an ass.”

“You sure? E sure seemed to think so.” 

“E saved you.” 

“E put me in that position in the first place.” 

“Fine, FINE. I’m not going down that road with you. But you’re to stay here, to go to classes when the time comes to finish your last year, and to not cause trouble with the rest of residents here.” I glowered, and took a bit of the apple.

“What if they start shit with me?” I said through the apple. He shook his head. 

“I will talk with them if you do that. But for god’s sake, don’t start anything, or it’s going to be bad for you, and you know it. The people around here are strong and you don’t have your pack anymore.”

“I know.” I grumbled. “No one. Got it. I’ll just be alone here, instead of the cottage.” He turned away and just gave a shrug of his shoulders. 

“If you won’t try, then I won’t either. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go check on Irene-.” He paused, then turned to me with darker eyes. The lights in the kitchen flickered and went out for just a moment as he moved his face closer until it was inches from mine. 

“Touch Irene.” He spoke quietly. “And I swear I will eat your still beating heart.” I just smirked. Inside my heart was beating impossibly fast, and my hands sweat until my grip on the apple failed, and bounced onto the counter. He leaned back, eyes still glowering, then turned to go. I was left in the kitchen, face pale and in a cold sweat as the lights returned. My smirk wavered as I stared into the gleaming counter top, marbled with white and grey. Rowan would kill me if I did anything, ANYTHING wrong. He knew it, and he knew that I knew it. It didn’t matter if it was his little fixer-upper fiancée, Irene. All that mattered was that I had only one chance, and this was it. Anything I did wrong, one off look, one thing that seemed wrong to him, and I’d be dead and gone. E didn’t like me enough to let me off the hook a second time. I was screwed. He knew it. This was… It was just limbo. It was nothing. It was just me living in this kind of hell for only as long as I was able to hide myself and everything I felt about the others in this house. 

“Hey.” I felt myself jump. Perhaps the one thing I feared more than Rowan spoke. Talon watched me closely from the entrance to the kitchen from the living room. His form took up nearly the entirety of the door, and his head hung slightly to make room for the door frame. His appearance was always hard to describe to someone who’d never seen a Canin before. A massive ten foot tall bipedal creature, covered in fur and with a wolf like snout that seemed uncanny to me. Like a wolf man, but more stable. And too big for his own good. Beside him, was the girl everyone in this house seemed to covet as some kind of goddess. I could easily tell by the black hair carefully swept in a bun and the small frame that looked like a stick figure. Irene was speaking to him questioningly with that baby bump that showed what her and Rowan had done. The animal slut, doing it with something little better than a dog. And it seemed she’d been making friends with more of them, with that massive bipedal wolf looking at me right now like I was lunch. 

“What.” I growled at Talon. His massive blocky head was closer to Irene when he responded, one hand holding her shoulder as she moved closer. She saw me now, and her face was pale. She remembered what I had tried to do to her precious werewolf friend. He’d taken the Pack away from me through cheating, but all she saw was a vicious attempt at murder for little more than a title. Everyone just seemed to be in her pocket around here, and if you harmed anyone, then you scared her. And if you scared her, you were dead meat. There was no winning. Even trying to explain to her why I did it, why I hurt Yang even though I was only trying to defend myself and get my title back, that wouldn’t help, none of that even mattered at this point. Sure I’d hurt Yang. Sure, I’d tried to kill him. Maybe I was more violent than I meant to be. But he cheated. He took my pack away from me. It was only fair. And it had still all crashed down around me, and the consequences were I had to deal with hatred from every pair of eyes I met. 

So I kept my head down even as I responded to Talon, and fully expected the response I got. 

“You’ll be dead if you do anything.” He said in his gruff and low voice. “If you even think the wrong, I’ll kill you.” 

“I won’t.” I said softly, but he just snorted, and pulled Irene closer. “You’ll mess up.” 

“Talon!” She piped up, but didn’t continue. As cruel as he was, his “best friend” Irene still knew that I was “evil”. She didn’t look like she knew what else to say. She was fighting between her need to be polite to everyone that came through these doors, and the absolute terror she felt for me.

Maybe I felt bad for her, in some small way, that she saw what I had done first hand. I went right for his throat, and she thought she’d lost a friend. She didn’t know how much of an asshole he was, or what he had done to my life. She’d been indoctrinated to hate just as everyone else does. Telling that to myself didn’t help me much, though. She still was never going to accept what E had decided she wanted to do to spice things up a bit. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I could hear that line over and over as I looked at the girl for only a second before turning away.

I walked out into the living room and away from their bullshit. Up the stairs would be my room, according to Rowan. The upstairs worked in some magical way, and my room would be whichever door felt the most “like” me. Whatever that meant. But if it meant being alone, then I wouldn’t care. 

Bumping into him was the first step. 

Trying to walk away towards the second floor was the next. 

“Wait-“ A hand gripped mine, and I tore it away from me with a snarl. The fear at the tip of my heart that I had messed up had me turning back to apologize quickly like a prayer. Instead of someone I knew though, some face that hated me among all the others, was some kid looking at me like I was some kind of strange and foreign creature. 

“Whatever…” I trailed off. “Just don’t touch me.” 

“I wanted to say hi.” He didn’t even react to what I had done. He just watched me curiously, then moved closer until he had me backing up to the second floor hallway, and off the stairwell. 

“Can you not?” I hissed. “Just leave me alone.” 

“Your soul…” 

“What do you mean, you fucking w-“ I stared as I saw the wings behind him for the first time. Near white, fading to a light grey. Just behind his head and folded neatly, it was hard to tell at first that there was anything strange about him except for the blonde hair and dark blue eyes. He was more than worried, he was a literal fucking angel and god if Rowan found out I was acting like this to one he’d end me-

“Look, I’m sorry. Can you just leave me alone?” I rolled my eyes when he shook his head. “Why the fuck not?!”

“You need help.” He almost whispered. He stared at me all the more, never taking his eyes away. It was just getting more and more uncomfortable. 

“What do you even mean by that?” 

“I can see it inside, there’s… A lot of pain. A lot of fear. And despair. I want to help.” 

“You can’t help me.” I turned around and started walking, but felt his hand gripping mine once again. Too fearful of Rowan’s wrath, I simply kept walking down the hall and looked for any door around here that might be something I’d like. Maybe then I could say good night in the middle of the afternoon and get him out of my sight for the time being. And maybe ignore him and the others and stay in there the rest of my miserable life. 

“I want to try.” I tried to ignore him, but his sparkly way of talking kept digging into my ears. 

“Stop it. I’m not gay, you know.” I growled as I turned to him. But he just squeezed my hand, and looked at me with the most confused expression. 

“What’s that mean?” 

“Not gay, you know, not a fag. So you can quit it with holding my hand, and all this flowery shit.” He only looked all the more confused as I pulled my hand away, shaking it out of his grasp. He looked saddened when I did, but I didn’t care. I was still busy looking for a door, any door to get me out of this conversation. 

“I don’t know what that means. I just wanted to be your friend.” 

“I don’t need any friends. I don’t need you.” Ah. A door that looked like me. Brown and warm looking. Inviting even. When everything else failed, and I felt like the world was cold, this door seemed to be the one thing I could escape to. I opened it, and inside was a comfortable looking room. A large bed, with iconography of forests and trees around it. The blinds were heavy and black. Dark too, good to sleep in for days at a time. I’d live in here for the time being. Maybe forever. Hopefully forever. 

“Bye.” I pushed him away, and closed the door behind me. 

With my back against the door now, I breathed in deeply, then fell to my knees in a wracked sob. 

Shaking with fear as the despair welled up inside, I couldn’t seem to focus on anything in the room. Everything was wrong, disconnected, and the more I tried to look ahead, the further away it appeared to me. I had to resist the urge to throw up, and it fought me every step of the way. No matter what I had done before to try and shove all of the memories down, it was still deep inside, and being around them all was bringing it to the surface of what I had tried to do. 

I blinked, and I could see the roof of the school. I closed my eyes a moment longer, and I could see the ground rushing up to meet me. I opened them, and I could still see flashes no matter how much I tried to think about different things. I couldn’t think of Layla, I’d cut all ties with her the moment I fucked another girl. I couldn’t think of my Pack; they’d already accepted their alphas, and I was less than dirt to them. Not even the women I’d slept with, not even them, would give me a second glance. I’d tried to take it back, and I was further cut off, crucified. 

But it wasn’t… It wasn’t their fault. It was mine. That’s why I was crying, why I couldn’t stop, while the sobs kept coming and wouldn’t let me rest. Because it was my fault. I had made this bed. I was supposed to lie in it. And I chose to die. I chose to just… End it. But not even then…. Not even then… 

“It wasn’t only your fault.” Yes it was. No matter how many times that little voice in his head said it wasn’t, that was the thing that had gotten me into this mess in the first place. It was this very voice that had led me down the path of trying to fight it, trying to still feel like I was important, and I couldn’t let it return. I’d rather focus on the guilt. Maybe it would lead me to truly finishing myself off. Maybe E’d get bored after a while and I could just let myself go. Try again.

“Don’t do that.” 

“I’ve ruined everything.” 

“You can come back.”

“There’s nothing to come back to.”

“There’s life. That’s an amazing thing to come back to.” 

“Yeah but-“ My eyes widened. This wasn’t in my head. This was outside, and those thoughts weren’t mine. I turned around to see that damned angel, crouched beside me with a hand on my shaking shoulders. 

“It’s not the end. You don’t have to lie down and end it. I know you can break through it.” 

“Who the fuck do you think you are.” I whimpered. “Why are you in my room?” 

“I told you.” He breathed softly. His face was too soft for the way his eyes looked. They looked so dull themselves, like some kind of dark world. There was intangible suffering behind them. “I’m just trying to help you, and make you feel better.” He smiled, and I almost wanted to smile back. It was contagious.

“You can’t do anything for me.” 

“But will you let me try?” I gritted my teeth, then pushed his hand aside. The tears stopped as I took a deep breath, and I wiped them away harshly. Then I scrambled to get up with an look that would hopefully make him reconsider bothering me.

“Who the fuck even are you?” I barked. I thought he would have been upset. I thought maybe his little sissy heart would have been crushed. But he just looked so… Happy that I even asked. 

“I’m Oliver.” He beamed at me. I didn’t understand how he managed to deflate me so easily. The fury just left me, and I managed a small smile. I didn’t bother to catch myself that time. What was the point? 

“Keith.” I turned away from him, and moved instead to inspect my room further. I paused as I realized something. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“How did you know what I was thinking. Can you read minds?”

“No, nothing like that. I can see your soul, the aura inside you. I can see the emotions behind it that fuel it, and when it changes, how it affects you. And when it gets really strong, I can sometimes see scenes…”

“So you saw…” I grew pale at the thought that maybe, he’d seen what I’d done. Whether it was Yang, or taking that fateful step off the top floor of the school. How could I explain that to him? He’d hate me just as much as the others in time if he found out. I guess this was it. 

“I could feel it.” I looked at him in surprise, tearing my sight away from the wardrobe with the small figurines of wolves on it. 

“How?” 

“I could feel your heart in your throat when you jumped, and the way it picked up as the ground rushed up to meet you. I could feel the guilt and anger you finally in favour of despair. I could feel the betrayal when you did what you did to Yang, and the way your anger drove you to it.” I bit my lip. “And I also know that you still want to jump again.” 

“Maybe I should.”

“Don’t. Please. You’re a salvageable person. I believe that. If you just try, I promise-” 

“How?”

He held out his hand again, and I glared at it. “Just let me try.”

“Why should I even listen to you?” 

“Because I really believe you. I don’t think you deserve to die. I just…” He looked down, and his eyes started to water. I froze again as he started to weep softly, and before I knew it I was already consoling him without meaning to. 

“Shit man… Just, stop crying. Honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. Fine, whatever, I’ll be your “friend” or whatever, for a little while.” He gripped my hand on his shoulder tightly and looked to me with a watery smile. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah…” I ventured apprehensively. “Sure… I guess.”

“Oliver!” He turned around abruptly at the call, and I bit my lip as I realized who it was. A familiar spindly black haired girl waddled to the door with her massive wolf body guard close behind, and Rowan not much further. Her eyes widened when she saw him next to me with tears only now stopping their fall from his cheeks. Talon just looked murderous.

“What did you do to him.” 

“Nothing, I-“

“I told you, if you did anything wrong I’d gut you.” 

“Seriously, I didn’t do anything to the guy.”

“Oliver, come here.” Irene crooned. He did as he was told, wiping away the tears and walking to her like a mindless zombie. I realized then that I must have been alone, completely and totally. He was just another drone in the politics of this house.

“You’re hers, then.” I growled. He turned to me and his face fell as he realized what he’d done, looking from the girl, then back to me. 

“She’s my friend too, but I want to be yours.” Irene winced visibly. I tried not to smirk with Talon present. 

“Oliver, are you sure that’s a good idea? You know what happened with Yang…” He already knew? Well, he knew from me, but for him to know from her… The bastard obviously knew about me from the beginning, I’d bet on it. 

“I’m sure.” Oliver nodded adamantly. “I really am.”

“But, he’s dangerous.” 

“Agreed.” Talon barked gruffly. Rowan was there now, saying nothing behind them, but we all must have known his stance already. He hated me, and if he had any say in it, he was definitely not going to let his “family” get tainted. The muscles in my arms were taught as I gripped the door frame and was entertaining the idea of shutting it with all the repercussions involved, but Oliver turned away from Irene in the next instant, walking back me with purpose as he gripped my free hand. 

“I’m his friend. I am not going to let him be alone.” 

That was that. I stared down at that thin hand of his gripping my own. Was I supposed to trust that? I looked to his wings and realized, yeah, I pretty much could. He was an angel, they weren’t ones to hide how they felt. He was truly certain what he wanted. I couldn’t help but smirk as I turned back to the three of them. They’d been so hell bent on keeping him away, and here I was taking away from them the one thing they thought they had that they could keep away from me. 

“Not like that…” I heard Oliver whisper, and I faltered. What then was he trying to do?

“Fine…” Rowan sighed and he let his weight falter from the height it was before, from intimidating to just tired. “Oliver, just be very careful. If anything happens, tell me. The friendships that angels keep are often volatile and painful. Don’t let him harm you, even if your instincts are to “fix” him.” 

“And tell me.” Irene spoke up. He addressed Oliver with a honest look. “Please, just be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t.” He smiled at her. One by one, they left my door, and soon it was just him, holding onto my hand lightly. He didn’t thread his fingers through mine or anything, just loosely gripped my palm with his own smaller hand. He was a full head or more shorter than me, but those wings reached up near to my height, I was surprised now I hadn’t seen them sooner. He wouldn’t let go no matter what I did, would he… I sighed to myself.

“Fine.” I said, more for myself then him. “What do we do now, then?” He looked up from the hallway where he’d been watching his family leave, and smiled. 

“Anything.”


	2. Chapter 2

He wouldn’t stop following me around, no matter what I did. Every time I went downstairs to quickly get something to eat before anyone noticed me, every time I tried to go outside for a little fresh air. Everywhere, holding my hand no matter how gay it looked, and how I wasn’t about to be labelled like that when I had worked hard to… To… That’s when I’d usually stop arguing. I didn’t have anything left to argue for. I wasn’t… like that, and I knew that. I didn’t care if he held my hand. He was just being childish. 

And I can’t say it didn’t help when I’d lose myself. Sometimes, when I could feel everything crashing around me, and I saw the asphalt again in my mind, and I felt my heart moving my chest up to my mouth as the ground rose up to meet me, a squeeze on my hand was all it took. And sometimes, it wasn’t. When it got worse, and the guilt and the fear and the anger and depression swept over me and I was left entirely breathless and unable to hold it all inside, I could still feel hands on mine as he waited for it to pass with the calmest sense of patience there was. I wasn’t sure how he did it, but I felt almost irritated by it at first. How dare he have the patience to deal with me. 

I had a hard time admitting that he was a friend to me, but all the evidence pointed towards it. He was the only one I had in the entire house, and if E was right, then maybe even the entire fucking world. But he’d always be there anyways. It didn’t matter what others thought. And I was starting to think to myself, maybe if he was a girl, I’d be into him. Maybe even fuck her more than once, if he was a she. But I wasn’t like that. And I bet if I told him, he’d take it the wrong way anyways. Though, he didn’t seem to understand the concept at all. 

It got more confusing the longer we stayed together. 

“Oliver.” I said once. It was dark, and the quiet of the room was deafening. As much as I hated the noise now, I still couldn’t get used to the quiet. Not totally. Nights like this one were the worst. No matter which position in then the bed, no matter how tired I was, I couldn’t go to sleep, not with the memories. Even if I did somehow find a way, it would just be dreams. Terrible nightmares, of falling, of laughter, or hatred, of crying and fear. Very… un-Keith like, E’d say. But I still couldn’t get them out of my head, whether asleep or not. I’d thought of it before offhandedly, that maybe Oliver could help like he did during the day. 

But standing in front of him in that sky blue room of his in the middle of the night with his pajamas on and only half awake was an entirely different matter. He had been asleep, I could see it, and I’d woken him up. Eyes half open at first, now wide as he tried to clear the sleep from them. Selfish, I guess. I shouldn’t have bothered. I should have just walked away. But I had committed now, and in front of him like this with his eyes on me like an owl was just making this worse. 

“What is it, Keith?” He asked. Same jilted and chittery voice as always. Always digging into your ears, too bright and shiny. 

“I… Uh… Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” That went about as terrible as I thought it would. 

“Why, nightmares?” 

“Forget it.” 

“No, Keith, it’s okay.” 

“No. I woke you up. I should just go.”

“Keith, stay.” 

“No.” 

“Stay.” I growled and lay down on the bed beside him facedown against the pillow I’d brought. 

“Fine.” I mumbled. He giggled. Sounded like a girl. I pretended to ignore him, and turned away. Facing the moonlit windowsill that dusted the room with a blue tinted light, I could almost feel the memories starting to return. I closed my eyes as I braced for the images, but then his hand gripped mine again, and it relaxed back away. My mind was in the present, with his grip grounding me tightly enough to keep me there. I smiled to myself, and let my eyes close.

This time, there were no nightmares during the night. No, the horror show was the day. When I woke up, the first thing I could smell was the faint scent of shampoo, and a lot of Oliver. It made sense with me being in his bed, but the next sensation was holding something against me, and this time it wasn’t the pillow. I opened one eye and saw yellow and grey. Hair, stark blond with the sun shining in, and wings I was almost touching. There was enough knowledge floating around about the sensitivity of those things. I was holding him, actually cuddling with him, and I could feel that familiar hardening that the morning always brought like some kind of… some… some…

“Ah-“ I pushed him off quickly before I could say anything coherent. He was still asleep by the time I was up and out the door, thankfully not awake to see what had happened. But it was close. I had to promise myself that wouldn’t do that, not again if it ended up like that. 

Until the next time the nightmares ended up too much, and my eyes were nothing but darkened shells from the lack of sleep. When I came to knock on his door again, he was less surprised then before, and more than happy to let me sleep in his bed again by his side. He even seemed joyful to have someone around. I had noticed that less people had interacted with him since I’d become his friend. It hurt a little to see him quarantined like that, like me. He didn’t deserve it even if I did. I’d brought it up before, but he quieted me before I could say much on the subject. He wouldn’t have it. So I was all he had, based on his own wishes. But still though, it was stupid. He had the head of the house for a father figure, couldn’t Rowan do anything about it? Or was his anger for me greater than his love the people he rescued? It made me burn inside to think of that. 

It was all more of the same, going to sleep apart, and waking up again with him in my arms without meaning to. I never understood how he got there, I never wanted it, never got up in the middle of the night to do it. It always just seemed to end up that way. Did I move in my sleep? 

He woke up this time, early enough that I couldn’t get away. 

“Keith…?” Oh god, that thing pushing up against him, could he feel it? I knew it wasn’t from him, it was just the morning but- 

“Sorry-“ I moved quickly away, and before he could say anything, I was out the door again. I didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say. If it was negative, I’d be upset, if it was positive, I’d be disgusted. He was a friend, right? Friends didn’t want to fuck friends. And that was the end of it.

So why was I thinking about him in that brief moment he was away to get us sandwiches from the kitchen that summer afternoon in the garden. I couldn’t get him out of my head, not even when I tried to focus on a grasshopper crouched over a blade, longer than the others due to the bench being too close for the lawnmower. The only thing that purged him were thoughts of the jump, and that was something I really didn’t want to use, as much as it’d help get Oliver out of there.

When he came back, I said nothing. I didn’t talk about how much I wanted to do something to him he probably didn’t know existed, if he didn’t even know what gay was. I doubted someone ever had the talk with him. He was too innocent for his own, and those “parents” of his were overly protective and controlling. 

“Keith?”

I nearly coughed out my sandwich. 

“What?”

“Do you want to tell me what happened, exactly?”

“What do you mean?” Had he felt it that night?

“With the jump, and everything…” I deflated, and took another bite. 

“Why do you care.” I said around a mouthful. “You’ve probably already heard enough from everyone else in the house and the school. I doubt that you’d want to hear it all again.”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable.” 

“Stop that.” I growled. 

“Stop what?”

“Stop reading me. It’s annoying.” I bit into the mustard and ham and cheese and felt it roll over my tongue. The bread was abrasive, and that kept me from falling again back into the past. But it was close. It was like I was walking a tightrope. 

He gripped my hand, and I jumped to safety. 

“I am ready for whenever you want to talk to me about it.” I spurned the look he was giving me. So caring, full of understanding… Sickening. I hated it, almost as much as the more honest looks of hate the people from the house gave me every time they saw me. 

“What about you, huh?” I said around my sandwich. He had finished his by now, but I was savouring mine. “What’s your story?”

“What do you mean?” I put down my sandwich to gently punch his shoulder. 

“Hey idiot, I meant your life before this. This isn’t a halfway house for nothing. Everyone’s got a story behind them. So what’s yours?” 

“Oh, that…” He grew quiet, and I could see his wings faltering along with his shoulders. The wind had been taken out of his sails. 

“You don’t need to talk about it, I guess…” I sighed. 

“No.” His hair twirled with the shake of his head. “I have to show you that you can tell me too.” He was trying to show me up. Little bastard. “I was in a room before this.”

“A room?” I raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?” Maybe a prison? Or contained for some reason at least. 

“The faceless man ripped off my wings.” I stared at him. 

“Is that some kind of allegory? I still see them.” 

“They grow back. Angels always grow back after they’re hurt. Or killed.”

“So you’re telling me, that the world before this is just you being tortured by this “faceless man” and having your wings ripped off?”

“It’s hard to explain. I can barely remember.” 

“It’s fine, I’m just trying to piece it together.” He looked intensely thoughtful as he looked to the side. 

“Okay… Well, I remember that there were red brick walls, and a lot of dirt, refuse and debris there. I was always there, sitting, covered in bandages and wrapped tightly up to keep from moving. And I could remember a thing… I knew him only as the faceless man, I wasn’t sure what else to call him. He didn’t have a face, he was dark, black, and he had no face…” I could only watch him, completely dumbfounded. I had no reason not to believe him, but it sounded so strange and terrible. And so odd in it’s description that I wasn’t sure he’d be able to make this stuff up on his own.

“So… He left you there?” 

“And he’d cut off my wings, whenever they grew back. They were white at first. But eventually, they got darker, and he started coming less and less. I think he only wanted them when they were white.” I was starting to believe him more now, and it made my blood run cold. It reminded me of what little I knew about angels. Their purity, and how the darker their wings were, the more closer to humanity and darkness they got to. Living in a town full of supernatural creatures offered me a little knowledge on the different creatures around, but angels were always one of those you never heard much about. Based one what I knew, Oliver had to have been a “fallen” angel, on a scale between a dark and a pure one. In the middle. But if the purity had been ripped from him, then something very dark must have done it.

“How did you get out?”

“Well, I kept singing. I wouldn’t stop. I could sing well, and I thought maybe if I was loud enough, someone would hear me. And someone did in the end. There was a long period of no one touching my wings, and no one coming near me, and then Rowan found me, and brought me here.” 

“Brought you… Wait, did they feed you? How long were they gone?” He shook his head, and my blood boiled. 

“They didn’t have to. I kept healing. I didn’t need anything to live. They just left me there. I think in the end, they just left. I got cleaned up by Rowan and Irene in the end.” 

“Jesus…” I whispered, and looked down. Guilt came off me in waves. I was the child, not him. I was the one that couldn’t stop thinking about what I had gone through, stuck on it every second I wasn’t thinking about him. And here he was, completely adjusted after an ordeal like that, like it had never even happened. But then I looked at him again and saw his eyes, the pools that they were. And I realized there was something underneath that he didn’t want others to see. There was a reason his wings were grey now, and not the white they had been. Yeah, I’d learned a little from the other angels around, but there was something more about what he’d gone through that I’m not sure could be expressed through words. He looked like he had lost a piece of himself in there that kept him believing in something. And if that had happened, then it broke him a lot more than he let on. Those eyes had seen a lot of shit in their life, and he was too young for it. 

I didn’t mean to hug him, it just kind of happened. It felt right to do it, he seemed happier, and so did I when I touched him. What didn’t feel right was not wanting to let go of him. I did and with little hesitation, but there still was this feeling of loss that came with it. I tried to beat that down with a shovel, but it wasn’t helping at all. It was still there, saying I should do something, something more. 

“So Keith.” He finally said. Some time had passed, the sun was starting to set over the pond in front of us, and the frogs were croaking louder under the lily pads. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

“Oh…” I went quiet for a second as I thought it over. But maybe that would just make it worse. So I stopped. I just started talking, and tried not to think about it. “I was the alpha of the Pack. You know the ones, Yin, Yang, Wraith, Layla, Derik, Raymond.” Those names felt like burning coals. “I was in charge of them. I was Laylas’ mate. I had all of them at my command. But I abused it… I slept around, I…” Biting my lip again. I could taste the metallic tinge of blood from it. It was a habit I needed to get rid of. “… Raped Wraith. Fucked a lot of others. Some more dubious in consent than others.” 

“Okay.” I bit back a harsher remark. Sometimes I wished he’d just hurry and tell me how evil I was, and let it be done and over with.

“That’s all you have to say?” 

“I don’t think I should yell at you anymore when you already do it enough to yourself. And everyone else does it too.” 

“I ruined someone’s life. Maybe more than one.” 

“I know.” 

“Oliver-“ 

“Keith.” He stared at me. “We live with a bunch of bad people. Rowan is a demon. Talon blew up his brother.” I felt like if I clenched my teeth any harder, they’d crunch. 

“It doesn’t make anything I did right. Or worthy of forgiveness.” He squeezed my hand again. 

“Go back to talking about what happened. I don’t think this conversation would end well.” My breath left me, and I regathered me thoughts.

“I was pushed out of the Pack down to omega because Yang and Yin ganged up on me. Together, they beat me down. I could have taken Yang if it was one on one, but his stupid brother… They cheated, and they took it all away from me. I still think that, even now. They cheated.” I chuckled coldly. “They cheated, and I tried to get revenge by killing Yang, to show them I could win. But I was forced off of him. I was sent away, reprimanded, punished for it. They should have, you don’t pick fights in school but… It showed to me that there was no way. There was just nothing I could do to get back. And I had nothing. So I climbed the stairs to the roof of the school. I went to the roof, and I went to the edge. It was in the middle of classes, no one would have known. And I didn’t think. I just… I jumped.” 

He squeezed my hand again, tighter this time. 

“I jumped. And I thought I would have died. But E, she stopped it all, the world around me, everything. She picked me out of the air, and brought me to her cottage.” 

“E… You mean the Editor?” 

“Yeah.” I dropped my head and smiled sadly. “She let me know loud and clear that she hates me, and the rest of the world too. But she kept me there in her small little pocket of peace for a while anyways. It was quiet there. And nice.” 

“Do you wish you were still there?” I looked back at him. 

“No.” I said. “I wouldn’t have had a friend then.” ‘Friend’. It felt hollow, but I didn’t want to ask why. He seemed happy with it, though. The smile on his face washed that feeling away, and we watched the sunset moving over the horizon and down over the trees that encompassed the massive garden instead. It sailed down, and then the world grew dark, and when the cricket chirping got loud enough, we both walked inside. 

I slept by his side that night, but everything felt strange. I couldn’t get to sleep. It wasn’t in the middle of the night like it had been all the others, and I was stuck there with hours left until the exhaustion and Oliver combination would usually pull me under. I was just faced with his sleeping face turned to me, stuck on looking at it instead of turning away like I usually did. It was so soft, like velvet. I touched his cheek when I knew he was sleeping deeply enough. He was a heavy sleeper, it took the sun and some jostling to wake him. So I could touch him if I wanted – not that way, no. No, I wasn’t like that, not… 

I stared at him a little longer. His face looked different without his wide eyes looking back at me. His nose was small like a button, and his mouth was little and pursed. His hair covered half his face, and the collar of his pjs just poked up over the covers of the bed, light blue and striped. His favorite color was blue. It wasn’t hard to tell. 

I wasn’t gay. I couldn’t be gay. 

I wasn’t gay, but I think, somehow, Oliver was an exception. 

The next morning, I was holding onto him when I woke up and I didn’t let go. He was still asleep when I woke up, and once again there was that head of hair pressed up against my nose. This time I stayed long enough to feel his breathing, slow and even and felt his heartbeat against my hand. He was quiet when sleeping, soundless like the dead, but I could feel that he was very much alive. I held him tighter as some slight memories briefly clouded my vision, and closed my eyes again. I wasn’t sleeping, something stirring under the drawstring pajamas could show that. But I wanted to just be near him a little longer. 

I pushed away when I thought again of how I was reacting. I don’t think I’d want to explain that to Oliver, I had no idea if he even liked me that way. I was taking advantage of him.

Why did I care? 

That thought range thoroughly through my head as we got ready for the day to have a walk through town. He still wouldn’t stop holding onto my hand, and I had to repeatedly remind him until he finally let go, none the less still happy and excited to be walking around more than just the backyard for once. Why did I care about what he felt at all? I had done whatever I wanted before. I could just pretend he was another girl, it wouldn’t be difficult, would it? I could just use him like I used them all, for what I wanted. I’d get what I want, him moaning beneath me, or maybe screaming, the feeling of overpowering him, doing what I pleased and then leaving him- 

I couldn’t bear it. Oliver stopped when I did as I leaned against a tree, shaking slightly. It was a different part coming back to me, something dark I didn’t want to think about. I wasn’t myself anymore… 

“Keith?” Oliver watched me in confusion as he moved closer, but I turned away.

“I’ll be fine.” He looked so worried for me. There was no way I could be the same. It’s almost how I felt about Layla, once, so long ago. I had been different then too. Like Oliver, innocent and in need to show her that I could love her. But then things changed, and I found her boring. I didn’t ever want to do that to him. I don’t think I was capable of that. Getting bored of him? God… I hope I wouldn’t get that selfish and oblivious. Getting bored of the one person that bothered to give me the time of day, who would I even turn to? He was safe, either way. Hopefully. 

We continued walking after that, and I’m sure he could feel how unsure I was, the guilt just radiating off of me. He could see it, I bet. Swirls of it around me. But he was too nice to say anything. Way too nice. 

I decided then that I did care about him, more than I should. He was an exception to something I would normally hate. He was something I had every opportunity and had taken every opportunity to make fun of. And yet, here I was, in some way… Becoming it. I wasn’t, it wasn’t the same, but anyone who didn’t know me or him would have assumed that I was... 

I’m not gay. 

But… 

He and I walked home that night with ice cream. He kept making me chuckle with the way he made everything so exciting. Whether it was pointing out a tree that looked strange, or a rabbit running across the road, or how Rowan’s house had a resident or two climbing to the top of the building itself. He just seemed to enjoy everything, and I found myself getting captured in it too. 

I didn’t know how to explain to him how I felt, every time I brought it up, he just seemed to get focused on something else, or something interrupted us. It was day of this, everything seeming at the last moment to interrupt any attempts for me to tell him and lead me to second guess myself. I kept dithering back and forth constantly, and nothing seemed to have me lean more one way or another. It was always on the cusp of telling him, only to have Rowan and Irene bringing him back to attention like they actually cared about him ever since the baby she was having was starting to become a more prominent factor. It was ridiculous. 

“Oliver.” He ran from the hallway down to the kitchen to help Irene and I walked after him. 

“Oliver.” He ran back up the stairs to the second floor hallway to grab something for one of the other residents. 

“Oliver!” I grabbed him as he ran by again and stopped him on the stairs. 

He blinked up at me and smiled. “Hi, Keith, what’s up?” Here it was, my chance to tell him. But as I stared at him my stomach started tying in knots. I couldn’t find it in me to say anything to him, and an awkward silence started of him watching and waiting for me to say something, anything. But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to say what I knew would go against everything I knew, I couldn’t, couldn’t do it. 

“Kei-!.” I pulled him against me and kissed him. I didn’t know what I was doing when I did it, and neither did he. He didn’t pull away, he was too in shock to, but I gave it everything I could in that split second that I thought I had already ruined everything, so I might as well do everything I could to enjoy this last moment. I pressed my lips harder on his, holding his shoulders. When I opened my eyes and stepped back, he was completely speechless. He just stared with those wide eyes, looking at me like a deer caught in headlights. It was impossible to gauge anything else in his reaction. I could only stand there helpless and wait for whatever happened, to happen. Or maybe I could start damage control now, and hope that could help at least something…


	3. Chapter 3

“Oliver, I’m sorry.” Nothing for several seconds. Just staring. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“What was that? What does it mean?” He finally peeped. I scratched my bangs and half hid my face in the process. 

“I kinda… Like you.” 

“As a friend? Is that a friend thing, what you did?” 

“No.” I mumbled. “No, it’s not.” 

“Then…” I could see him blush from hiding behind my bangs. “You mean, together? Like Rowan and Irene?” I froze in place. He liked me. He liked me for what I was, what I had done. He actually cared about me. After everything I had done… My heart swelled. I had to play it cool, I couldn’t scare him off.

“I guess. Is that really the example you’re going with?” That sounded colder than I wanted it to be.

“It’s the only one I’ve seen. I don’t really know how any of this works.” It took a second, but I moved back to him and held his hand. It was the first time I’d actually been the one to hold it. He looked down in surprise and I felt an echo of guilt. Maybe it would have been less shocking if I hadn’t pushed him away before.

“I’ll teach you then, if you want. If you actually… Well…”

“I like you.” He smiled brightly at me and I had to look away again. God, he was far too cute for his own good.

“Really? Do you mean that?”

“I do I promise!” 

“Okay… Then I guess we’ll try this… Whatever it is.” 

“Like we tried being friends?” He pondered. 

“Yeah…” I brightened. “Yeah.” 

Irene was not pleased. I didn’t expect her to be. Learning that Oliver was her precious pseudo-child, and how overly protective she was of him at first created a rift between me and her even bigger than before. And now I heard her talking with Oliver from behind my hiding spot when they spoke in the kitchen – once again, an argument about me. But this time it was more than just friends, and that had her even worse. I was just at the stairs, listening as she voiced her concerns. I bet Rowan was involved in bringing it up. She was a bit like his mother in way, so careful and concerned with him interspersed with confusion. But that conversation didn’t end well. He almost burned another bridge of the plenty he had before when he stayed firm. She didn’t like it, but he wasn’t budging, and because of that, there was nothing more to speak about. That must have hurt him, but he didn’t show it. When he came back to me and I acted as thought I hadn’t just been listening to the whole thing, he just smiled as if nothing had happened with him either. I hated how he just took it. Like this was another burden for him, and he could keep it hidden without talking about it. But if I brought it up, I knew I’d make it worse. 

…

“Hey, Keith.” It was weird hearing my name not come from Oliver. I turned around coldly to see a familiar face glaring back at me. This one I’d been avoiding especially. The Gothic look, the ragged hair and brown eyes with dark circles under them. Chris. A werewolf, like me, but unaffiliated with the Pack since I last met her. She was here for the same reason we all were, that her story had ended. Only I’d been a part of it, and I wasn’t exactly the good guy. I knew she’d find me eventually, and if she had found out about Oliver and I, then this was going to be more than mindless insults being thrown my way. Sitting in the living room this time didn’t help, but then I supposed I should have known better than to accept the common area was for me as well. It’d been only a day or two since Oliver had accepted that I liked him the way that I did, and that we’d started… Well, it wasn’t dating exactly. But with him telling Irene and us being so close all the time there was no way the rest of the house didn’t already know. I braced myself for what I knew would be the beginning of interrogation. 

“What Chris?” That dull black hair of hers, bouncier than before now that she had access to a shower for once, strangely stunk of the Pack. She had been hanging out with them more often. It made my stomach hurt. 

“I heard what you did to Oliver.”

“Did to Oliver?” I smirked, but it felt hollow. And the words stung me almost as much as I meant for them to sting her. “Is that really going to be the way you put it? Are you as stupid as the last time I met you?” I’d tried to recruit her to the pack before a few years back, but she’d been quite… Adamant in refusing. In the end, we still ended up here with the same roof over our heads. I’d call it fate if it weren’t for E being a fucking cunt who loved to stir up trouble. 

“Oh fuck, are you really still as much of an asshole as you were before?” She snarled. “Look. You know what kind of weight Oliver has around here. I know what kind of person you are. And I know that doesn’t just change when someone tries to hurt themselves like the way you did. So I know that you’re using him.”

“Are you kidding me?” 

“I’m serious. Someone who’s oblivious and able to manipulate so easily, and connected to the leader of the house? What better way for you to get control again and let the power go even further to your head? I saw it before, the way you treated your pack.” She looked almost desperate. “Don’t do it to the poor kid now. Oliver doesn’t deserve what you did.”   
I glared at her with my jaw set in a firm line when I stood up and towered over her with my height. There was so much shit I wanted to say. But none of it would be believed. 

“You’re very, very wrong, and I think you shouldn’t bring this up again.”

“You think that just because you jumped from the roof, you can somehow just become someone else?” No. I wasn’t different. I was still a fuck up. I was still a dick for what I did to you. I was still a terrible person for Layla, still a monster for subjecting Wraith to those years of nothing but pain. And I was still nearly a murderer. I didn’t know why Oliver liked me. I wanted to tell you that. I do. But that damned pride… I couldn’t let you take an inch. The people in this house would take a mile. 

“I know enough difference that I actually care about him. It’s not the same. It’s not a fling, it’s not some fucking chick like you, it’s not… It’s different.” 

“So you’re gay and that makes everything better?”

“You’re going from saying I have some kind of conspiracy theory to plot the destruction of this house, to making some accusation that I’m gay and trying to make myself feel better for dating Oliver?” Fury boiled inside. 

“Your words, bro, not mine.” Her nonchalant shrug just made it worse. Was this what they all thought? Did they just think I was some kind of user? 

Maybe I was. Maybe I was just making a void filled. But anything, ANYTHING was better than the emptiness I had before. That was an emptiness that drove me off a cliff, and that was something I never wanted to go back to. But I’d do everything I could to make if not feel like he was being used. I’d make sure he was happy. 

“I’m not gay.” I growled. How could I even explain all those other things to her? No, I couldn’t articulate it.

“You’re dating a guy.”

“He’s an exception.” 

“Are you sure? Been looking at Thomas lately? Or maybe Wrench?” 

“I hate every last person in this fucking place except for Oliver.” 

“Want to rip the throat out of all of them too?”

“Don’t tempt me.” 

“Keith?” Oliver. I stepped away from Chris, who I had been slowly backing into a corner, and my demeanour changed when I realized he’d heard at least some of it. 

“Oliver, I’m sorry, I just-“ Had I lost him? Had I gone too far? He looked mad. Even his mad face looked sweet. I would have smiled if I wasn’t the target.

I wasn’t. I WASN’T! 

“Chris, don’t be mean to Keith. He means it when he likes me. I can see it. You’re just being cruel to him…” 

“He deserves cruelty.” Chris said quietly. But she looked guilty when she turned back to the couch and the T.V in the corner of the living room. 

“Thanks…” I said softly. I didn’t want to cry in front of the people in this house, god that’d be the last thing I’d want to do. But Oliver was tempting me. 

“It’s alright. I can already see what affect she had on you. I’m sorry she did that…”

“She wasn’t all wrong.” I murmured. “I still feel like I’m using you sometimes…” 

“What’s wrong with using me for comfort? It’s what I’ve wanted all along.” It didn’t make me feel much better to have him admit it, but I still smiled painfully and pat his head until he let go of me, and we walked out for another one of our walks. 

Having something other than myself to take care of felt strange after living like I had only myself for so long. Oliver had wormed his way into my heart long before as a friend, but admitting everything else to myself led to me feeling more protective. He had nothing to be afraid of now that he was here of course, especially with Rowan keeping him under his wing – the big bad demon being the one you can call father? He was fine – but his talk of his past still set me on edge whenever I thought about it. It would happen periodically when I thought of him, sometimes in my room and other times outside in the off time when he was busy with someone else, but the thought of him being stuck in that room went from feeling pity, to feeling rage and heartache. 

Maybe I couldn’t fight what had hurt him. But I could still make things better by making his life better. The problem was, I kept feeling like everything I did was only using him.   
Not that he was useless, no. Oliver had talents, one of them being cooking. Where I was all thumbs in the kitchen, he certainly wasn’t. If there was one thing that kept him away from my heels at every other moment, it was helping Irene with dinners, lunches and breakfasts. At those times, I’d either be hiding in my room and wishing he was there to talk to or, or watching from just outside the kitchen in the dining room, hoping no one would enter there and start to complain about my existence. Chris’s outburst made me nervous than usual over the past few days and with Talon breathing down my neck and Irene’s pregnancy growing more… Pregnant, I was in hot water if I even thought of something bad.   
All of that left my mind when Irene disappeared. She was taken, I’d overheard, by the demon that made Rowan. It had been a cut and dry mission to use Irene’s fears to then turn her into what he was. All I could gather other than that, was that she had somehow agreed to a contract and so had been pulled down into hell. It didn’t take long to have Rowan racing against time to go looking for her- and leaving the house without a leader in the process. I didn’t know that much about demons, but I knew she probably couldn’t last that long with her delicate sensibilities. Talon kept most of the information away from Oliver, but I knew that the kid would see through it pretty easily with Talon’s soul. However it worked with that power of his, he knew that something bad had happened with Irene. But he did what he always did and didn’t bother to leave time for grief or worry. When I walked into the kitchen looking to comfort him after finding out, he was already cooking again that morning. 

“Oliver?” I questioned as I walked over to the island of the kitchen. Leaning against it, I could feel shadows of the memory of being here for the first time. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and not a few months. 

“Yes, Keith?” He wiped his brow after taking a large roast out from the oven. His smile was strained, and that hurt. 

“Why are you making that?” 

“Oh, Irene’s gone, and I wanted to do what she had been doing until she got back. I’m cooking some food off so that Chris and the others can come snack on it later. Chris really has a big appetite.” I wanted to say something, but knowing him he’d tell me to drop it. Feeling helpless, I grumbled as I walked closer to help him with what I could, then realized I had literally no idea what to do. The counter top looked like a battlefield.

“You’re right, I guess. Can I help? Teach me what to do.”

“Oh, okay!” He went from the bumbling happy person he usually was, to a general ordering me around in the kitchen in only a moment. I did as he asked, taking out flour and butter and trying to whisk eggs for something, I’m not even sure what; every time I did something for him though, he’d come back in a second from juggling multiple projects and somehow find eggshell in the eggs or a hair in the butter or something else impossible because I swore I had a discerning eye and there was no way I’d managed to throw half the eggshell in with the mix.

I must have been doing more harm than good, but he was incredibly patient. In the end, when I was covered in batter and staring mindlessly at an oven full of cupcakes I had created in some strange magical way, he walked over with the bowl and a big smile on his face. 

“I messed it up.” I sighed. “They look gross.” 

“Well they’re not even cooked yet. You did a great job.” He giggled. “I have the icing all ready to go and once we decorate them, it’ll be a nice treat for the rest of the house. Maybe it can even take Talon’s mind off of things.” He got quieter at the end.

“Irene will come back. You know that.” I poked a batter covered finger into his cheek and he jumped in surprise as he was taken out of his ever increasing swirls of doubt. He looked at a loss for a second, then poked me back with a spatula covered in orange icing right onto my nose. I licked it off, but the very tip was still covered and no matter what I tried I couldn’t get it off with my tongue. He was laughing the entire time as I focused on that one tiny speck, licking up with a tongue that couldn’t budge further. I finally gave up on the trick and wiped it off with my hand.

“Well, the icing’s delicious.” There was still a smear of batter on his cheek to go with the flour and icing sugar all over his shirt and pants, but honestly, he looked better than I had seen him all day. 

“What next then?” I went back to the counter and looked around for any hints of what other cooking he had planned. “What can I mess up now?”

“Keiiith you’re not messing it up. Cooking is hard. I learned the basics from Irene and the rest through cook books, and even now I still have trouble with a lot of things. Baking is hard, and you did great with that. And I’m sure that you’ll do well with the pork chops too.” 

“Pork chops for dinner?” I blinked. “How do you even cook meat. I have no idea. I just kind of ate as a wolf most of the time.” His wings fluttered as he laughed. 

“Well, we have seasonings, we have to set the oven to the right temperature, and I need to steam the broccoli and bake the asparagus and mash the potatoes with garlic and cheese and-“ I stared at him blankly. 

“You’ve already lost me.” Walking me through the steps and telling me along the way how to do what he did wasn’t much of a help either. I tenderized the meat a little too well with the hammer and we were left with goo, the asparagus was in pieces and overly salty by the time it ended up in the oven, and I didn’t want anyone asking questions why half of the potatoes ended up falling behind the fridge. But cooking with him was still one of the most exhilarating things I’d done lately. No matter how many times I failed, or messed up, Oliver was always there to encourage me to keep going and work towards the end goal of finishing the cooking, even when it looked like it was going to end up terrible. And it was going to be terrible, no doubt. But I didn’t stop. As much as I fucked up, I liked trying the whole way. And in the end, I was rewarded with regular steamed broccoli. The one thing that didn’t mess up, that actually worked perfectly, and Oliver couldn’t stop gushing about it until I had to quiet him down when other curious members of the house peeked inside the brightly lit kitchen to see the massacre I had accidentally created. 

“What did you do to this poor kitchen?” The short haired and stubby Carrie looked inside with a less than impressed glare. 

“Keith did the broccoli perfectly!” Oliver squeaked. I was already half hiding behind the kitchen island and the bar stools to keep a wide breadth between me and the zombie survivalist. Carrie had her own story she’d escaped from. 

“I’ll clean it up.” I said quietly. 

“Wait, you made dinner?” 

“Oliver did it mostly.” But Oliver was already holding up his hands to shake his head furiously as he grabbed the oven mitts and brought the broccoli closer to Carrie to see.

“No, Keith did it and I supervised. It’s his first time and he did an amazing job!” 

Carrie squinted at the pot of broccoli, then back at my frozen face. “Hey Oliver, you sure that’s Keith? You know Keith, the asshole?”

“He’s a nice person.” Oliver said adamantly. He looked stiffer when he placed the pot back on the stove and set about gathering what little remained of the garbage I’d created and fixing it to be ready to feed the rest of the house. 

“Keith doesn’t do anything for others though.” She looked at me more closely. “What have you done with Keith?”

“Can you fuck off, thanks.” I growled, and she shrugged. 

“Sounds a little more like Keith. Thanks for reminding me.” I glared at her until she left. When I turned around I noticed there was little else for me to do now. Oliver had cleaned almost everything, and the rest of the food was on plates. Broccoli, the second and lesser side vegetable was somehow in the center stage with the most ornate bowl. 

“Oliver, I think you’re taking the broccoli too seriously.” 

“But you did so well, and look!” He pulled out from the oven a set of twenty-four cupcakes that admittedly looked pretty good. Chocolate and peanut butter swirl would taste good regardless of what I did to them, as long as they maintained a basic chocolate and peanut butter flavor. 

“I did that?” I stared at them in shock. 

“Of course. We’ll ice them after dinner and make sure that everyone gets to try one.” 

“Right…” I didn’t know how to feel about creating something that looked that nice. I’d never really… Made anything before. 

Sitting at the table without Rowan around had everyone antsy but me. There was chatter about what had happened to Irene, and at this point it was well known enough what exactly had happened that no one was keeping it secret from Oliver. I knew the little guy could take it; he’d been through much worse. But still, it hurt when he flinched at the spitballed ideas of what she was going through right now. 

“I can only imagine what kind stress it’s going to cause on the baby. Do… Do you think they’d take it away from her?” Carrie’s face was hollow when she said that. She poked at the salvaged mashed potatoes with a sudden loss of appetite.

“I don’t think it will be so bad.” Aquaria’s white hair flipped as she turned away from combing it and towards the rest of the table. The dining room lit dully by electric lights and candles only accentuated her in all the right places. She’d been the one I’d gone to the most before, fucking her behind Layla’s back. Now her selfish demeanour showed beyond all us, and I felt disgusted more than anything by her. But I was surprised to find that I wasn’t the only one bewitched by her good looks before. Oliver had told me about his brief crush a month ago. I guessed it wasn’t hard to know why he found himself following her around several months before I arrived – she was a bombshell in every sense of the word - but it was still disconcerting that while I had to force myself on him, Aquaria merely had to exist to gain his favor. 

“What do you mean, not so bad?” Talon grumbled. “It’s hell.” Standing near the head of the table, his imposing figure loomed over all of us despite the length of the table reaching so far back. 

“I mean, I went there, got my powers and came back relatively unscathed. Maybe Phyreo’s trying to be quick and make her a succubus?” 

“Or maybe she’s going all the way.” Shifter muttered. I knew her very well, she and I went years back. I’d recognize that face anywhere, and that damned skunk hair that was black with white stripes. But she looked so much older than before in her eyes. She’d perhaps had it the worst out of any of us. Being unable to die, and stuck to a demon not unlike that Phyreo one these people described. But she was still stuck, still alive. E was a cruel god. She couldn’t die no matter what she did. 

“All the way?” Aquaria scoffed. “Why would she bother to make a demon on that level when it takes a hundred years to do it? Everything’s moving slower because of that Amber Tier and the creatures that come from it. And Irene’s one of them. She can’t sit around and wait so long when she has no control over the time that Irene lives in.” 

“You really think that matters? Why would she want her to become a demon when she could just make her greatest failure suffer?” I watched her grow more anxious with every word. I almost felt a kinship for Shifter. As much as she disliked me like all the others, in the end we’d both been screwed over by the same God. Right now I could see the same haunted look in her eyes that I sometimes saw in the mirror.

“You mean Rowan.” Origin chimed in. 

“Yes. He’s a good guy, and Phyreo never liked that in him. But up until a little while back, at least he had an evil presence inside him. But Irene’s brought even that to a more stable state. And now she has nothing. She’s going to do terrible things to Irene. I can feel it. I think her losing her baby is the least of her worries.” 

I winced, and gripped Oliver’s hand under the table. It was shaking, and I knew he was scared. I would be too, if I had someone as close as Irene taken from me. It would be a different matter if someone stole Oliver away from me. Instead of how he was acting now, I’d be Rowan. Running to the ends of the Earth to get him. Maybe not as self sacrificing, but pretty damn close. 

“I don’t think we should talk about this anymore.” Oliver whispered. And that was that. The table gave way to silence as everyone ate their food, meager as it was me. By the time Oliver was handing out frosted cupcakes, you could feel the depression in the house weighing heavy. We thought Irene would be back by the evening, or at least the next day. But this wasn’t the case. I helped Oliver in the mean time the best I could being more a hindrance than a help, but he had lost a lot of his will to cook now that he knew Irene was going to return in just a few hours.


	4. Chapter 4

It took three days. By the third day when she returned in the living room with a baby in her arms, Oliver was ecstatic to see her. But it took only one look at her to know that she’d been broken inside. Maybe Phyreo did have some effect over the way she made time work for the residents of Amber Tier. I could see Rowan far more defensive than usual towards the baby and Irene, and without much time for a reunion they both headed upstairs. I didn’t blame them, Irene had gone through literal hell thanks to a stupid decision to agree to Phyreo’s deal. But they didn’t have to leave Oliver out of it in such a way. 

He looked like he had really beat himself up over it by the time I got back to him in the kitchen. Half cleaned kitchen utensils littered the counter from the times he had tried to make things but just hadn’t the drive. He sat at a bar stool on the island, playing with his hands for lack of anything better to do. Moonlight streamed in from the window as it appeared from behind the dark grey clouds, but you’d be hard pressed to find stars tonight. 

“You okay?” I rubbed his temple, and he smiled up at me the same way he always did. It was a lie, but it was still sweet.

“Irene’s baby has a very beautiful aura. It’s mesmerizing.”

“Well I’d like to think so. I mean it is a baby. Wait, was it born in hell?” 

“No, here. Rowan said the stress caused it.” 

“I guess it would with all the shit that went down.” I stroked his hair a moment longer and he pushed back against my hand like a cat. “Are you really sure you’re okay?” I pressed. 

“Irene went through a lot and she isn’t the same as she was. I understand.” His smile was breaking down, and I sat down beside him. I pulled him closer with an arm around his shoulder.

“I know that’s the logical reason, but it’s not going to make you feel better, is it?” He numbly shook his head. Leaning against my chest and closing his eyes, he let out a sigh. 

“I didn’t think I’d be able to see her again and expect things to be the same. But I still hoped she would be just as when she left. But it never has been the same since I first met her. The more I learned, the less interested she appeared to be in me. When she first saw me, I didn’t know anything. I was a blank sheet that couldn’t even talk. Maybe it was because I was growing up and learning how to speak, but she seemed more focused on others already by the time you arrived. 

“I know she still loves you though. She still cared enough about you to be rightfully worried when we got together.” 

“I guess. Sometimes it’s hard to see it that way. With this baby… I guess I feel a little jealous. But maybe that’s what happens when you grow up and change. You have to refocus who cares about you. Maybe not Irene but…” 

I squeezed his shoulder. He looked so tired then. A lot older than he was too. He was sleeping by the time the moon disappeared behind the clouds again. Carrying him upstairs was easy. He barely weighed a thing. 

That night I kept him company like every other. But I felt like my presence was more important to him than the other way around. Not wanting to bother him, I was left alone in my thoughts. Thinking about what he said, about how he needed me. Maybe he hadn’t said it that way exactly, but I knew that he did. And as hurt as he might have felt by Irene’s growing distance, that distance pushed him closer to me. And I felt love. I stared at his sleeping face that night, taking in his closed eyes, his small nose, his pursed lips, and my heart fluttered just a little more. 

When we kissed the next time, we were outside, walking through the backyard gardens towards the chrysanthemums. He loved the flowers and the way the blooms flowed in the wind, and I had to admit, Rowan had quite the green thumb. Oliver’s face was lit up so happily as he watched the way they moved. It made my heart pound a little quicker. I wasn’t even thinking of anything else at the time. There wasn’t any darkness, it was just him, just the way he looked. I kissed him, and I thought for a moment he might have wanted it too. But in the next few seconds, he didn’t move. He didn’t seem to understand much more than to stand there and take it. So I moved my head back with a feeling of guilt rising in my stomach again. 

“Do you know how to kiss?” God I hoped it was that, and not something worse. Please let it be naivety and not hatred. 

He shook his head, and I smiled as a wash of relief poured over me.

“I’ll lead you through it, if you want.” 

“What do I do?” Eager to learn as ever, I told him the steps. 

“You press your lips on mine, close your eyes, and you press back against me, but not too hard. Sometimes it changes, and you… Well, move your mouth. It depends what you feel like doing.” 

“Alright… It sounds a bit complicated.” I kissed him again and was rewarded with the first fumblings of him kissing back. He still didn’t seem to understand completely and I had to lead the way for the most part. But he pressed back, and even moved his hands onto my waist on his own. I couldn’t understand fully how the feeling of him reciprocating affected me, but I knew I liked it. So much in fact, I had to break it up before it got too far. I didn’t want to push him, and he knew so little that it still after all that it felt like I was taking advantage of him. I had to turn to the side to keep him from seeing what had come out of kissing him. It was too chaste for that. 

“Keith?” He looked at me questioningly, almost worried, but a smile from me had him all better again. 

“I’m fine. How was that?”

“It felt nice…” 

“Good.” 

Sleeping by his side felt wrong now. I didn’t want to touch him knowing what it meant. Before, I guessed I could have fooled myself into thinking it didn’t mean anything, but now was a different time. I knew Oliver was realizing that I had started to sleep in the same bed as him less and less, but I didn’t know how to explain to him that he made me want to fuck the shit out of him when I saw that sleeping face of his. I didn’t want to hurt him, god that was the last thing on my mind. But I had to admit, he was too attractive for me to ignore. I was with him first and foremost because of his personality, the way he acted and treated me that seemed to transcend gender or sexuality. I still wasn’t gay. But I also found him attractive, and being around him now, when I knew what I thought about offhandedly could actually happen, that had me retreating further and further into my room.  
It was funny now when I stayed stuck in my room how much I hated it when I had coveted it so much before. 

That night I stared up at my ceiling and wished Oliver was beside me. I’d chosen his own safety and my sleepless nights over something else and it was starting to feel like the worse option. After getting so used to Oliver being beside me, being alone was bringing everything back that I had thought I’d lost. I could see it again, that asphalt rising up so quickly and yet never quite getting to the bottom, always left falling over and over again. 

It would hurt. But it just never came. I was always left to imagine it, and it only got faster the more I let it stew inside. Periodically there would be the consequences of almost killing Yang to accompany it, and the way the others treated me afterwards. Pretty much everything up until that end. All warranted, all meaningful, all… True. I deserved it. I did. But it still hurt. It hurt not to have anyone. It hurt to feel alone. And in this room, dark, and cold, and far too quiet, it just added to it all. It showed that my words were true. 

I’d pushed everyone away, except for Oliver, and even now where was he? In his room because I was too afraid a boner would scare him away. 

“Keith?” 

I sat up from my t pose on the bed, and saw the hallway light filter into the dark room. It was bright enough to see Oliver there in his pajamas with his hand on the door knob.

“What?” 

“If you’re a werewolf, why haven’t I ever seen you transform?” 

“…What?” 

“It’s been keeping me up all night.” I blinked. 

“Well, I uh… I guess, I just haven’t felt like it after everything. I guess I’ll do it when I am in a better place, emotionally.” 

“Oh, okay.” Seemingly satisfied with the answer and yet still slightly drooped, Oliver turned to close the door.

“Wait-“ He paused as I held my hand out. I dropped it quickly in embarrassment. “Do you maybe… Want to sleep here tonight?”

“Really?” He was far too easy to read. He slammed the door shut and jumped into my bed before I could respond and made the bed ripple only the barest amount with his small weight. Taking the spot up against the wall on the queen sized bed, he left the entirety of the bed for my reign and faced away from me in a position that reminded me of a mummy. “Goodnight.”

“Hey.” I half chuckled. “You’re allowed some bed.” 

“I didn’t want to use up too much. I came in and you didn’t want me to.” 

“Didn’t want you to?”

“I could read that you didn’t want to be around me. Emotions going all swirly again.” 

“Goddamnit, stop reading me!” I growled.

“Sorry…” He shrunk, and I winced as I moved to lie down beside him. He turned around to see me instead of facing the wall. 

“It’s fine.” I sighed. Up close to him didn’t help the very thing I was worried would happen. Seeing his face, his eyes, looking at me because he trusted me so fucking much. It was so… Comfortable. I wanted to pretend that was all it did for me, but what was soft in my pants before before wasn’t any longer. “Can you turn around?” I muttered. He seemed to be able to read everything but arousal. Maybe his naivety prevented it. Whatever it was, I appreciated it, because he questioned nothing when he turned around and gave me some small solace now that I wasn’t looking at the thing that was the main cause of the problem. 

But when he pressed back against me to cuddle like we’d done countless times I felt the reassurance leave me all at once. He didn’t question the hardness pressed against his back, but I knew he felt it. Maybe he thought it was a part of my leg. I could only hope. 

“Keith?” I jumped. 

“Yeah?” Please don’t say anything please don-

“I love you.” Really? Now?! Oh all times? He says he loves me first when I’m desperately trying to not take advantage of him and failing miserably?

“I love you too…” I murmured against his head that my face was buried against and hoped if I was quiet enough it would hide the huskiness in my voice. 

“Irene said that to Rowan the other day, and I thought it would be good to say to you.” 

“Wait, so you got it from them?”

“Yes. I get a lot of stuff that we do from them. I thought they might be a good example.” I huffed. 

“But you haven’t really thought of anything yourself in this?”

“I don’t really know how to. It’s kind of...” 

“Difficult?”

“I guess.” He moved back and closed the small gap between us, and I shuddered. 

“Are you cold, Keith?” 

“No, s’fine.” I buried my face further into his hair and flinched when he moved again. 

“But it feels like you are. Are you hurt? Your leg’s at a weird angle.” 

“That’s not-” I bit my lip as I struggled to find the words. 

Fuck this, I’d had sex countless times. I’d fucked people like it was nothing, used and abused, and even loved with Layla, back in the beginning. I knew what sex was, so why was I acting some kind of middle schooler who’d just discovered his dick? This was so stupid. But even now I was struggling to explain to him what it was that was pushed against the small of his back and beating with my heartbeat, even twitching against the waistband of my beige drawstring pjs. Maybe, like the kiss, it would easier to just show him…

“Oliver.” I said softly. “Do you know what sex is?”

“… Vaguely.”

“I…” I gripped his waist and gently brought it closer against mine. It was his turn to jump when I touched down his front. He wasn’t hard yet, but it was already growing after the first touch. It was almost cute. 

God, I was gay wasn’t I... No, couldn’t be, I hated every other guy I’d met. It was always just him. 

“I want to show you.” Stroking lower on his front, towards his own need, I heard him moan softly as he felt what I supposed was the first pleasure he’d experienced. 

“Keith.” I reached into his pants while grinding my pelvis against him without much thought, and stroked along the edge of his glans. 

“Mhm.” I responded, but my mind was far away, enjoying every bit of him, his hair, the back of his neck, and the length in my hand, because to me, it was his pleasure I enjoyed, and barely my own. 

“Keith.” He said again, more urgently this time. I stroked slowly, giving him time to build up.

“Keith!” He turned around and gripped my shoulders tightly, and his face told a different story. There were tears in his eyes and he looked so scared I started shaking myself. 

“What what’s wrong?” I held him close, ignoring my arousal for the moment. He whimpered as he pressed his head against my neck and barely kept himself from sobs as he gripped me. 

“It feels like before.” 

“Before?” Had he done something like this? When? 

His wings fanned out behind him for the first time in a while, and my face went pale as I realized something horrific. 

“No…” God. The faceless man had to get the wings out somehow. And everyone knew how they were supposed to do it. It was common knowledge among people like us. When an angel gets aroused, their wings spread out. They were supposed to be sensitive because they barely saw the light of day when inside them, allowing them to blend in like humans when on earth normally. It was only when they sinned that their wings were shown off as a warning to others to stay away, not that anyone ever listened. But if his wings were out all the time, slowly losing sensitivity over time, then… I had always wondered why it was that they were out, but to have an answer like that, it felt disgusting. How hadn’t I seen it before? Why hadn’t I asked? He’d given me enough information that I could have put two and two together, and yet I’d been so callous.

“Please, can I see you if we’re going to do that?” He looked up at me again, and I wiped away his tears with a knuckle. 

“We don’t have to do that at all. I promise.” 

“No!” he protested, pressing against me for good measure. “I want you. I didn’t know what it was, but if it’s with you, then I… I want to do it.” 

“Are you sure? You can say no, at any time. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I promise. But can we do something that… Touches me less there?” I blushed at the implications of what else I could do to him. 

“Alright. I’ll try something else.” Instead of stroking his front, I moved behind. I let my hand glide down the back of his spine and trace along the curve of his butt. With trepidation, I parted him and felt him moved closer as his breath actually started to quicken this time. My lips found his and we kissed more desperate than before as I probed at his entrance, gently at first. To hear him moan into my mouth sent me further down the path of no return. Pressing a finger was only a test. But he pushed closer, and I moved him on top of me to get a better angle. He whimpered as he held onto me, and I was lost for a moment in the way he looked. His blush rose to his ears and his eyes were oddly lustful as he stared back at me and waited for my next move. It made my heart beat faster. Then I was back to moving my finger inside him and kissing him silly until he moaned my name like a gentle breeze. It felt much better than the fearful way he’d said it before. Briefly, I worried how he’d feel about taking this further. But I squashed that anxiety. He liked everything I was doing, nearly begged for more. I didn’t want to stop it because of my apprehension. 

Another finger was added to him, and I looked at his face carefully for any twinges of pain. He just panted, looking at me intensely with a deep red blush as he tried to register the pleasure. 

“God…” I murmured. He ground into my lap as I drew my fingers apart gently inside him and felt him stretch to accommodate. Did I dare think he could take me? 

“Oliver, do you want more?” I said it in worry as the tension grew in my chest, but he nodded without question and let out a breathy moan of confirmation. 

“Okay.” I was doing this. I was actually doing this. 

I moved him off and beside me with his stomach facing the bed and wings twitching from every little touch I did to him. It made me almost curious what I could do with them, but I focused on the importance of what I was doing. As I carried myself carefully over him and pressed my face against his hair again, I drew my other hand down the lining of his drawstring pjs, and pulled down his pajamas with care and reverence. I kissed his ear as he whined when I removed my fingers, but when I replaced it with something else, he started to whimper instead. 

“I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

“I know… It just… Feels big.” That sounded far too sexy coming from him. I had to pause before I responded.

“It’ll get easier with time. And we can stop whenever you want.” I held his waist gently for support and kept myself from suffocating him with the other by holding myself up. Moving incredibly slowly, and biting my lip the entire time, I moved with a moan erupting from my mouth like lava boiling up from an eruption. And god, did it feel amazing to hear him join in, moving back as he realized just how amazing it was. Pausing wasn’t enough for him, he rocked his hips back on me even when I wanted to stay still and let him get used to it. I had to chuckle at that, breathless as it was. 

“Eager?” 

“It feels weird.” I moved again, still slow, still careful and he started to make more noises that were music to my ears. My shoulders rose and fell in harder breaths as I resisted the urge to move too fast. I judged based entirely on his reactions. I just wanted it to be good for him. And I could tell when he enjoyed it, those wings wouldn’t stop beating when I hit a spot that he liked it, and it was adorable to try to work around them. Accidental touches had him shudder at pleasure that he caused himself. 

“More…” He whimpered, and I obliged. He got louder, and I couldn’t hold back my own. Right against his ear, I groaned from the feeling, the tightness of him, the spasms as he dealt with these unknown feelings that even I didn’t totally understand. “Keith…” He whimpered. 

“Yeah?” I gently sucked on his ear, and he turned to me with a face that screamed sex. 

“I want to see you. Please.” 

“Sure.” I smiled through another wave of pleasure. Moving away for only a moment, I turned him to face me and carefully avoided touching his wings too much. If his own dick brought back those memories, I feared what touching his wings would do. So I pulled him closer against me and pushed into him a second time. It was far easier now, and I moved faster this time and he moved back in rhythm. Soon with every thrust he was crying out against my ear and sucking over my neck like some kind of adorable leech, seeking something to hold onto.

So I gripped him in my arms securely as I moved, but not once did I slow down. I couldn’t, he was enjoying himself far too much for me to stop this for him. I was enjoying it too, but he, he was spasming against it, his wings beating with greater and greater intensity. I hissed and moaned with a particularly violent thrust, and almost stopped myself when I felt like it might have been a little too rough for him. But he just stared up with those eyes, half closed in pleasure and still wide as ever somehow, dark and blue and for once, not containing that darkness that he hid. I loved it, so, so much. 

I leaned down to kiss him. Gripping his hand tightly in my own, he kissed back just as hard and all the more desperate as I felt my orgasm fast approaching. By the time it was here and I was finishing inside him, he was doing the same on his stomach, haphazard and shaking with harried breath as his wings twinged and beat a little longer until settling in a mess of feathers and sloppy joints. They could barely move in the end, and I’d bet my life on it they’d be numb if I touched them. His heart beat incredibly fast against my chest, and we both could do nothing more than stare at each other as we took in the moment. He’d made it onto me as I was kneeling on the bed, half upright and holding onto my waist. I held his shoulders and my knees burned from the position they’d held a little too long. But I’d done it, I’d done what I’d been fantasizing about for far too long, and he liked it even more than I had. 

“I love you.” I pressed my head against his, and he smiled softly as he held me tighter. 

“I love you too.” I watched him a moment longer with a smile, then gently lay him down as I moved to clean us both up. As I did, I felt my mind drawing back to a certain conversation, with a certain editor at a certain time and place. 

“I promise you, it’s not going to be as bad as you think.”

Had she… Had she known that this was going to happen? That bitch! I felt that anger beat away the bliss for only a moment, but it was gone when I glanced over to see Oliver already fast asleep in my bed. Alright, maybe she had. I hated to admit it, but she was right. It wasn’t what I was expecting. It wasn’t what I had wanted before. But now that I was here, there was no way I was ever going to give this up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over, you can all go home now. They live happily ever after fucking the shit out of each other and supporting each other in their endeavours. You probably have no idea who I am or where I come from. Name's Cassidy Nighthawk. I write chapter books. But I thought of posting this here for no particular reason. You like horror, romance, intrigue, sci-fi and fantasy? You like humor that constantly rips on vampires? "Sign me the fuck up" I hear you say? Come see my shit over on Quotev: https://www.quotev.com/CassidyNighthawk/published
> 
> AND LEAVE COMMENTS I CRAVE FEEDBACK LIKE I CRAVE CHEESE.


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